Damages
by yume girl 91
Summary: The war has been won; Aizen's side victorious. Rukia, one of the few Shinigamies alive is captured and then thrown to the Espada...GrimmxRukixUlqui. UNDER REVISION
1. Chapter 1 The fallen city

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

A/N: I know, I know I shouldn't be doing another fic when I haven't finis anything in quite a while :P except for planning out the end of Haunted, Black Twilight and Dark Moon, Ghost of you, already! Ahem…so without further ado, I present to you: Damages chapter.1: The fallen city

~~~*~~~

She didn't stop running that day. The day when her world fell apart; sure they were stronger than them, of course they had the power of darkness and a leader who's cunning had fooled even the best of Soul society. But she still couldn't believe they had fallen so easily. Their defenses breached within hours after the battle had started. The fake Karakura town set up as a ploy to divert the main force of Aizen's Arrancars, obliterated by the Third Espada and then the rest joined the real fight in the streets of Ichigo's hometown.

Bloodshed and abrupt violence ran hand in hand through the red-stained pavement. Menos Grande parting the sky open and sending out searing waves of immense Doom blasts incinerating humans and Shinigami alike into annihilation. Hollows of various sizes flooded the town and the stationed Shinigami were hard-pressed to beat back the deluge.

Then as the sixth hour passed…an uneasy quiet stole through out as the dusk began gathering in the broken sky. Urahara watched this with unmistakable apprehension, "something's coming. Make no mistake about that," he said to her. She had her arm wrapped in a loose bandage by the little girl Ururu. Sitting on the steps, she saw nothing to account for the somber attitude stealing over the countenances of her friends.

Captain Hitsugaya, wounded above the eye, muttered something quietly to his Lieutenant. Rangiku nodded and hurried away, disappearing into the Shoten.

"What is it?" Rukia asked, her voice quavering.

"Kuchiki…" he said, turning a single piercing turquoise eye her way, "I didn't want to say anything…but you all must know. Soul society hasn't contacted us in two hours." The few humans gathered, such as Uryu, his Quincy bow drawn and Chad with his armored arm, gasped, all thinking the same thing. _Something must've happened_.

"But surely…they wouldn't leave us hanging unless…" Rukia trailed off, unwittingly speaking the idea held by those there. Urahara unfolded his fan, giving a brisk wave to his face, "it's all supposition, you guys. Don't look so glum! I'm sure—"

"Captain!" Rangiku ran from the Shoten, her bosom heaving, her expression frightened, "Soul society's fallen! We've lost—"

"The war." Someone finished calmly for her.

Urahara was the first to draw his sword, the release command on his lips as he dropped dead from a perfect shot of green light. Captain Hitsugaya yelled a warning, yet one by one everyone began falling. Rukia watched in stunned horror as everyone she knew—sans Ichigo—was slaughtered before her eyes. By miracle…it seemed, the Doom blasts didn't hit her and then she was running. Running for her life, crying helpless tears of rage knowing she couldn't lay a scratch on those responsible…for it was the fourth Espada, the one whom Ichigo had said he'd killed.

Ulquiorra Schiffer.

~~~*~~~

The first days she wandered around, alone. Seeing very few humans left alive. No Shinigami she ran into. In her mind she wished it were all just a bad nightmare, one which she'd wake up from…but then reality would set in and she'd find herself running from the faintest prickle of an Espada's reiatsu.

Her own she suppressed as much as she could. Hiding out and only moving when the night fell. This was one such night. Medicine only Urahara or Soul society could provide was what she needed, yet she didn't dare go near the Shoten or open a portal to go back. Her hands tremblingly grasped the cans on the top shelf; milky moonlight fell in shafts through the shattered storefront window. A round-headed shadow darted, slipping inside. Her eyes focused only on the task at hand, missed the snicker and hand that struck her on the back of the neck.

Nnoitra Jiruga, the resurrected fifth Espada lifted the inert Shinigami by her arm, limply she hung, single raven bang hanging between her eyes. His sneer grew, realizing her helplessness. He laid her down on the linoleum floor, spreading her legs apart; licking his lips he started undressing. Another shadow, thin but dressed in white also, stepped forward, effectively making his presence known by a single calculated sentence, "she is not for spoiling _yet_, Jiruga."

The fifth Espada whistled low through his teeth, "party pooper, Ulquiorra. _I know that_! But who do you thinks gonna get her? Stark? Me? You?" then he laughed as if the notion of the stoic fourth having interest in any woman was completely ludicrous.

"Aizen-sama has yet to pass judgment," Ulquiorra reminded quietly.

Nnoitra sobered and fixed his uniform. Bending low, he jerked the Shinigami up rudely and slung her over his shoulder, finding a hard time of it accounting his round hood and all…

~~~To be continued maybe-? ~~~

A/N: how was it? Let me know! Ahem…there will be some more things later on that'll earn the M rating just to warn you guys. Think, violence, rape etc…ciao.


	2. Chapter 2 Atrocities

Damages.2: Atrocities

"I said _don't touch her_," growled a low voice.

"Why? I don't hafta to listen to you, Sexta." Replied an oh-so familiar voice. Rukia's heart skipped a beat: _Ichigo_! _He was alive but why wasn't he_…

"In case you don't remember, _punk_. The prisoners are only for members of the Espada. Which you are most certainly—"

"You're the fool then just as you always are. I'd hoped…" here fabric rustled and then Grimmjow—for that was who had been speaking—gasped and uttered a curse. "Time away had cured you of your stupidity. It's Zero, Cero officially," the voice she thought was Ichigo's explained. Her eyes shot open; what the hell was going on here?!

The two previously arguing males both turned to look at the bed upon which she'd been lying on, as it creaked and shifted loudly. They both wore white, one a ragged coat with a crimson inner, pale white skin to rival Ulquiorra's, and cold, empty eyes stared back at her in a cruel caricature of Ichigo's beloved face.

"Ichigo?" she breathed, hardly daring to take her eyes off of her friend's inner-Hollow. "No, dear," the Hollow said, vanishing in a flash and reappearing before her. Startled, she jolted back; two fingers grabbed her chin and yanked, pulling them close. His breath rattled low, stirring the sensitive skin of her lips, "my name is…" he suddenly reached behind and twisted a handful of her hair painfully, her mouth opened in a silent scream, the Hollow grinned and plunged down. Smashing their lips together. Pain from the crushing grip he applied to her head, thrummed throughout her mind, stunning her until someone tore him away with a decisive snarl.

He hit the floor hard but still grinned, _crazily_, she thought. "Shirosaki Hichigo. My dearest _queen_." Shirosaki saw the horror reflected in her eyes and made as if to lunge for her again but a swift kick from the teal-haired Arrancar standing close by; sent him out muttering.

_Grimmjow…was her savior_. As the door closed and Shirosaki's white-clad figure disappeared, Rukia ventured to shoot a quick glance at him. He was half-turned, his hand rubbing the back of his large neck agitatedly; his eyes were narrowed and glaring yet he didn't say anything.

_Should she thank him_? _No_. _That would be an admittance of weakness_. Rukia shifted, bringing her knees up to her chest; _he seemed to be waiting for someone though whom she couldn't even venture to guess_. A while passed and still no one came. She assumed they were in Las Noches seeing as the walls and general over all feel of the place matched that of the Hollows colorless world.

Another minute ticked by, then, sandaled footsteps, light and familiar came closer. The door unlatched and a man stepped in briefly acknowledging Grimmjow's look of surprise with a flat stare of his own and then turning his raven head lazily, met her accusing gaze, emotionlessly.

"You—" she began but Grimmjow cut her off, "don't get started woman. If not for emoface and me there you'd have been Nnoitra's dessert last night. Let alone that fucker Hichigo's." _Him and Grimmjow protected her_? That she just couldn't believe. To prove it, she chuckled beneath her hand. Teal eyes shot a murderous look at her but she ignored him and continued.

"Don't." Ulquiorra said, as Grimmjow made a threatening step, his large fists clenching and unclenching. With effort he swiveled back to his superior, "I take it because you're here that means you're interested?" Rukia had silenced her giggling and curiously watched as the Cuatro's critical green eyes surveyed her before answering, "what my purpose here is happens to be none of your business, Grimmjow." Instead of getting offended, the teal-haired Espada suddenly grinned, cat-like, "oh is it?" he began pacing a little, suggestively nearing the bed, "then what're you doing here, Ulquiorra? If you're not interested in the Soul reaper?"

Ulquiorra's jaw tightened but he refused to rise to the challenge present in Grimmjow's words. "Lord Aizen wished me to check—" he started except Grimmjow shook his head, his smile ruined by the piece of jawbone on the side of his mouth. "No. That's not it. Only Espada who were _interested_ in—" fingertips brushed her cheekbone as he passed by, "—shall we say: _a good fuck_. Were to come to the rooms where they were held. I'm betting you thought I wouldn't show up and you'd have her all to yourself…isn't that right, Ulquiorra?"

Following the sinuous curve of his tone and feeling the caressing tones of it, a fresh wave of horror came over her. _He meant to rape her! They both did_. Her skin crawled and sensing them both looking at her, slowly she began to inch backward. Grimmjow moved first, muttering, "Oh no, you don't! You're not getting away so easily!" His struck her hard across the face and her vision whitened, but training and just basic adrenaline pulled her out fast and she responded with a Kido spell. Aiming clumsily and missing him as he Sonido-ed to the side, "Too slow," he said boredly. Ulquiorra hadn't moved but as she scrambled, diving for the floor and swiping her palm out as she yelled out the words, "Hado 4—"

Her arm was wrenched quite suddenly back, and she screamed as agonizingly he didn't stop until she slumped down, whimpering. Black fingernails cut into her shoulder as he lifted her up, blinking the spots from her eyes she stared straight into icy green depths. Disconcertingly she couldn't look away, his voice rumbled through her, "you will not scream. You will not move…unless Grimmjow or I tell you to."

Rukia nodded, unable to speak her compliance. Ulquiorra lifted her a little more gently and made her sit down on the edge of the bed, "we will keep you safe from the other Espada as long as you do not wander from your room. If you leave and are caught, Grimmjow nor I may not hear or find you in time. Do you understand?"

Again she nodded and stared fiercely into his eyes. Their shade was green yet the outward surface didn't reveal a thing to her even as Grimmjow shifted, annoyed at Ulquiorra's pronouncement, "what I don't get is why I have to share anything with _you_."

"You're merely the Sexta. Cero wants her bad and the Quinta also. If not for—"

"Aizen's favoritism with you then she'd be given to the highest rank. That bastard…" Grimmjow muttered under his breath, still bristling over Shirosaki. Rukia didn't like either but as once her thoughts turned to those mentioned as having an interest in her then her stomach flipped. _Better not to think about it…later maybe._

"Lord Aizen let me choose beforehand." Ulquiorra explained blandly and Rukia felt a rushing swoop of hot anger. _Aizen, this was all his fault…that filthy traitor_…Grimmjow rolled his teal eyes to the ceiling, "yeah, yeah and you just happened to be after the same piece of flesh I was after, now weren't you, Ulquiorra?" The Cuatro looked over at his rival, "I've no curiosity to view what goes on in your mind, Grimmjow. However if that is how you so choose to believe then nothing I say can change your thought process."

"Damned straight," Grimmjow said smugly, apparently unaware he'd just been _insulted_ and agreed with it. Rukia bit the inside of her mouth in order not to smile. For there was something to smile about wasn't there? Ulquiorra, she may despise whole-heartedly and Grimmjow himself, she may think him a ruthless killer—add—moron for obviously it was the Cuatro whom was the brains of the Espada. _And now Ichigo_…

_Just what the hell had happened between the time of Orihime's rescue and four hours later as the war started? What had gone on between then_? _More importantly what had gone so wrong as to her loyal Strawberry losing control_…?

~~~To be continued~~~

A/N: sorry it's a bit short :P I didn't have enough time to work on it…but wanted to post it soon. Can anybody guess what happened to Ichigo? :) Please review!


	3. Chapter 3 Bring me down

Chapter.3: Bring me down

~~~*~~~

_Those whom had died believing in their assured victory were the lucky ones_, Rukia thought sourly after Grimmjow stalked in. Smilingly, he looked her way, his sharp canines flashing; in one large hand he held a tray of sliced strawberries and a tiny white bowl of melted chocolate. _Oh great. Another gift_.

Ever since Ichi—Shirosaki had sent her a bag of sweet Kompeito, claiming he remembered her being fond of them—_La Sexta had been trying to outdo La Cero in treat giving_. He set the tray down near her on the edge of the bed; she glanced at it, her forehead puckering, "no, thanks. I'm not hungry right now."

The teal-haired Arrancar didn't take the hint and settled in an armchair placed in her room by Ulquiorra. Vivid electric blue eyes watched, waiting expectantly. Rukia sighed, averting her face deliberately. The rustle of her clothing annoyed her, hell, everything got on her nerves lately.

Even the little Arrancar servant girl appropriated to her as a gift from Ichimaru—_though she was loathe to accept_—had gotten snarled at when attempting to lace _Rukia-sama_ into a particularly hideous dress. She had it on now, a past knee-length white halter dress with a simple black collar and black stripe across her middle. Her arms were bare, exposed to the slight chill in the lifeless air.

Rubbing them, she felt the gooseflesh pimpling her skin. Grimmjow noticed, his tone teasing, "cold? Want me to _warm you up_?" She had learned to take veiled suggestions like these and simply laugh them off. If he had really wanted to force himself on her, he could've with ease. Yet he hadn't…

_She thought he might have made some sort of agreement with the bastard Cuatro…possibly to not touch her unless the other had_…her body convulsed. The knot that was her hardened heart tightening into a twisted ball; _if they had her that way_…

Rukia's lips trembled.

A heavy hand dropped down on her shoulder, startling her. She tilted her face up and found Grimmjow had silently gotten up and was hovering over her, a dipped strawberry slice between his fingers. "Open wide," he commanded, baring his teeth in a fierce mock grin. Rukia felt her mouth open obediently and him place the tart fruit on her tongue. Gently he closed her jaw and left his fingers against her lower cheek, feeling her grind and chew and then finally swallow.

_What did he find so fascinating_? She wondered her own eyes locked staring straight into his. He glanced over to the bowl on the tray and then back to her. She didn't like the sudden gleam that came into his eyes a moment later. Heart thudding and finding it difficult to get her breathing under control, Rukia watched with aching realization of what he wanted her to do.

His forefinger traced a searing line along her jawbone to touch her pressed lips. She smelled the heady scent of the chocolate, burnt a little and of the darker variety or so her taste buds told her. He had the tips of his fingers skim the top of the chocolate liquid, coming away coated with the dark brown confection. Rukia refocused as he tapped her bottom lip invitingly.

"Do it," he said.

A low whimper rolled out from deep within her and threateningly he spiked his reiatsu up in warning. The tip of his thumb bumped her lip again and now her tongue slowly brushed the sweet sticky chocolate from it. Grimmjow, she knew, was smiling with sick triumph in his eyes as he got what he wanted; _humbled her_. Made her lick him clean, _like a dog, like a slave_.

Rukia grabbed his hand between her own, guiding, sucking his fingers with a showy display of _enjoying it_. Grimmjow's eyes narrowed, a rumble escaped his throat that sounded suspiciously like a _purr_. Her heart sped up, _though the entire thing was wrong…she couldn't help but feel a shiver of sensual thrill run through her body, heating up her chilled skin_.

Once she was done with licking his fingers, she slid his palm across her lips, leaving a sticky kiss on the tanned skin. He inhaled sharply, suddenly flipping her back onto the bed. The springs bounced and she was jostled a little. He crouched over her, yanking her hands above her head, instantly her knees went up, trying to force him away from her more tender parts.

"Grimm—" she saw the lust dilated in his teal eyes, saw the deliberate care taken as he pulled up, forcing her legs apart and settling firmly on her lower half. _He meant to take her_…

She gritted her teeth until her jaws ached then screamed when she couldn't hold the horror in. Finding a strength she didn't know she still possessed, she shoved him off and jumped off the bed, making a mad dash for the unlocked door.

Seconds later before her hand even had closed upon the handle, she felt herself being yanked backward. Her back slammed into the tile floor with enough force to knock the air from her lungs. Looking up dazedly, she was staring at Grimmjow's crotch. He was above her, his legs spread wide apart.

"Tch. Idiot. Did ya think I'd let you get away so easily?" he sneered. Rukia flipped herself up into a crouch, her back to the door, "Heh. Not really." From somewhere she managed to conjure up a smirk and let her eyes roam up the Arrancar's body.

"Ooh…was the bad little Sexta perhaps wanting to fuck me? A worthless Shinigami woman?" she touched her chest where her heart still pounded, "I'm truly honored, great sir." Grimmjow was about to reply to her snide words when the door opened behind her.

"Ah, La Sexta! Please forgive my intrusion, sir, but I was ordered to prepare Rukia-sama for a private dinner with Aizen-sama." Intoned the wispy little figure of her servant. Grimmjow huffed, but then threw the small Arrancar a sharp look, "what dinner? Why wasn't I informed of this?"

"Members of the Espada were not included in the roster. It is merely a few of our Lord's most trusted companions," she said delicately, trying not to offend the easily angered _La Sexta_. Rukia stood up, cautiously getting between Grimmjow and the female Arrancar. Silence descended in the room until it was broken by the appearance of a new voice that spoke briskly.

"Come, Grimmjow. We were given a mission."

Rukia risked a peek behind her; Ulquiorra's face was as emotionless as ever, his pale hands in his pockets. Briefly-and-unnervingly—she caught herself wondering how he would've reacted if she'd sucked his fingers…_would he have responded to such an erotic gesture as Grimmjow had?_

Grumbling, Grimmjow went out, brushing past her without even another glance—threatening or otherwise back at her. The little Arrancar immediately went over to the large dresser up against the other wall, muttering about violet eyes and matching things. Rukia smiled a little, hearing her then realized Ulquiorra was still in the doorway, watching.

She forced herself to look into his emerald eyes, surprised when she didn't see as much of the haughty disdain lurking beneath the surface. "I hope your mission goes well," she said, not meaning him to take her literally. He half-turned away, "we will be bringing back Kuchiki Byakuya in pieces depending on how much his futile desire to evade us destroys him. Shall I give him a message from you?"

Ice water trickled inside her body, flowing down her spine, "you fucking bastard!!" she cried, bringing her hand back and sharply smacking Ulquiorra across the face. Unhurt he glanced at her, a lock of jet-black hair slipping coyly out of place and dangling onto his porcelain cheek.

"I take it you have nothing to say to your brother one last time then?"

She saw his lips turn up a little in a caricature of a smile.

He was…_making fun of her_.

Boiling anger filled her chest like acid and her hand shot out, the door slammed—she hoped-in his face. Fabric rustled behind her and then she felt a gentle pat on her arm. "Come, Rukia-sama. We must get you ready for Aizen-sama."

~~~To be continued~~~

A/N: meh. I'll do Ichi's flashback next chapter—you guys made a lot of nice suggestions :) maybe next time I'll use one of them—being lazy right now—ahem. :) So how did you guys like it :D let me know! Isn't Ulqui a bastard? Giggles…and Grimmy's perverted…


	4. Chapter 4 Aversion

Chapter.4: Aversion

She moved mechanically through the white halls, her feet encased in wedge heels, the ties in a bow above each ankle. The long flowing skirt cinched at the waist by a black ribbon, the neckline square but unrevealing except for a tiny amethyst pillow—cushion cut stone dangling from a teeny gold vail attached to a thin gold chain fastened around her neck.

_Now she wondered who had picked out that gift…?_

Certainly not Grimmjow, he didn't have enough class. The little Arrancar servant walked ahead, escorting her to wide double doors that were in an area she hadn't ever seen before. Thick paned windows ran along one end, heavy drapes of crimson damask hung stiffly, elegantly, though she'd be damned if she were to comment on Aizen's impeccable taste.

One side of the doors was swept open at the thin piping voice announcing, "Kuchiki Rukia-sama, entering." Rukia raised an eyebrow, knowing the peacock violet eye shadow to be highlighting her eyes in a most flattering way. One thing was, the little Arrancar did know fashion. An impatient wave mingled with beaming pride ushered her into the large room, the lights were muted giving the impression of inborn delicacy and not just to impress.

A long rectangular table was in the center and a single chair was drawn out next to the smiling man who wore white robes, his hair combed back and his gentle gesture meant for her to approach made shivers run up her spine. It was all she could do but keep walking steadily toward Aizen, the door closing with a preemptory boom as if shutting her inside with his vile presence.

The rest of the white silk-covered chairs were empty, she noticed, thankfully Ichimaru was nowhere in sight. For that would have made the ordeal that much more unpleasant. "How are you this evening, my dear?" Aizen questioned in a low purr. Her skin crawled, her fist settling on her lap, clenching with held in anger. "Fine. Thank you," she replied shortly. A delicate stemmed glass sat in her place setting filled with clear liquid, _water_, she assumed, reaching for it, giving herself something to do.

The cold liquid had yet to touch her lips when he spoke again, in a much more aggrieved tone, "it's certainly a pity your brother couldn't join us. I so longed to entertain a Noble at my humble table." Rukia with deliberate care set her glass back down, unable to disguise the shaking convulsing her hand. Aizen observed her steely look straight ahead at the chair across from her, as if she'd like nothing better than to rip it apart. "But then I have you, my dear. Don't I? You're just as much a Noble as Byakuya is—pardon me. _Was_."

"What do you want from me!?" accusingly her eyes went to his handsome face, a self-deprecating smile twisting his mouth. "Why nothing. Except the world, a foolish dream perhaps? Don't you think so?" he asked in all evident sincerity. Rukia stared at him, her mind unable to fathom the man before her and his crazed way of thinking. _He was crazy…insane even_.

His brown eyes bore into hers, the firm jaw still set in a smile so unlike his subordinate's. He leaned forward, catching her chin in his strong hand when she tried to turn away. "Tell me, my dear. Is my wish so unrealistic?" his breath was stirring her lashes, her palms were pressing against the table's edge to keep from being pulled any closer.

Pressure flowing in at the edges, mellifluous energy pouring into her mind, creating images from the dense haze overcoming her steeled soul; Rukia cried out, trying to twist away but his grip on her was tight, showing her what she had been most afraid of: _Ichigo's death_.

The room was as white as all the rooms in the accursed palace were; two figures stood close to each other, one over the other, in his pale white hands, a staff of pure lightning jutted out from the bloodied back of a kneeling form. Ichigo, his bright hair smudged with red, his black coat ripped, his pained screams rattling the dense air. Ulquiorra mercilessly pushed the lightning spear deeper into Ichigo's back, his words emotionless, "release the Hollow inside of you. That is—"

"_Never!!!!" _

"_Suit yourself." _

_His final cries tore at her heart, Ishida, she noticed, stood beside a horrified Orihime. Her broken sobs filling the silence left after Ichigo's screams had faded. Ulquiorra withdrew his lightning spear, a smile twisting his features back into those of the man showing this scene to her. _

"_Aizen!" Orihime gasped uncomprehendingly_. _Ishida suddenly struck the orange-haired girl across the face, her body slamming into the wall. Unsteadily she looked up, her hand going to the reddened mark coloring her pale cheeks, "Uryuu? But…_

"_Shatter, Kyokasuigetsu," Aizen commanded, the lightning transforming into a long katana in his hands. Ishida grinned, displaying a wolfish grin and black eye patch over one eye. His hair lengthened, falling beneath a round hood and white clothes. "Nnoitra…" Orihime crawled back, her fear obvious knowing that her means of salvation were few and faraway. _

"_Listen to me, girl. You are going back to them—say nothing of this. You will act normal—convince them that what they see is real," Aizen took a step toward her and she winced, expecting to be struck again. The bloodied heap that was Ichigo, twitched, moaning feebly. _

"_I-Ichigo?"_

_The relief was clear in Orihime's voice yet it wasn't the leering face that raised itself from the dead chest that caused her to fall back and scream. No. It was the hole, straight through his left breast, perfect as the others were, and the mask with golden and black markings covering half his face. _

"_Hello, poppet." Shirosaki greeted_.

_The scene changed and Ichigo was leading Orihime from the tower to the waiting band of Shinigamies. Ishida followed them more slowly, dragging his feet tiredly as if exhausted from the battle. Rukia saw them, remembered the words he'd said and playful jokes he had made to Byakuya. And it was all a lie. Her Ichigo was dead. Dead. And forced to reconcile his body to the living horror inside of him. Orihime had simply gone along with it, her pained smile speaking volumes for the threat she was under in order for betraying her friends in exchange for the man she loved. _

_Rukia hated her._

_Bitterly. For it had all been her fault from the very beginning._

~~~*~~~

Aizen withdrew his hand away from her, smiling at the heaving of her chest and racing heart. Her eyes dull and dispirited; a side door opened then, spilling out from a brilliantly lit hallway an orange-haired girl clothed in hateful white. "Rukia!" Orihime cried, running to the table. Ichimaru stood in the doorway, watching, waiting for the rebuke he was sure would come.

"Don't touch me!"

Rukia yanked her arm away from the startled human girl. Orihime's eyes filled, "Rukia? It's me…I thought you'd be—"

"What? Happy to see you…" her voice broke at the end and she couldn't continue. Standing up, she boldly made to push her chair back and walk away but Orihime stubbornly grabbed her, fiercely holding onto the one person she still had left. Rukia felt Aizen watching the proceedings with an interest based solely on them providing him with entertainment.

Her hand flew out, striking the girl back. Limply she fell to the floor, her gray eyes hurt and terribly confused. "Rukia? I don't—"

"Murderer."

Ichimaru strode forward, helping Orihime to her feet, her shocked expression venting a little of the burning fire inside of Rukia's soul. _It wasn't entirely the poor girl's fault_, she bitterly thought, her chest easing from the tearless mask of grief tautening her face. Ichimaru called back before the door closed on her former broken friend, "I'll join you after I put Ms. Inoue to bed."

Rukia sat back down stiffly, her head buried in her arms on the table. Aizen took a sip of his water, giving her a gentle pat on the top of her hair with his free hand. "Don't worry, Rukia-dear. We'll take good care of you here."

She wasn't sure which she preferred:

The thought of death or living in hell for the rest of her days.

~~~To be continued~~~

A/N: is this fic looking darker by the chapter or what? Grins, hoped you liked it! Please review! :) sorry I didn't have time to fit Byakuya's fight in, next time!


	5. Chapter 5 Fault

Chapter.5: Fault

"I'm positive there's no chance for her to be still living. Why won't you listen to reason, Kuchiki?!"

"Because, I do not believe they would've killed her, Soi Fong."

"Kuchiki—"

"Leave him alone, _bee_."

Soi Fong spun around, at the edge of the clearing; a familiar lithe form of a dark-skinned woman came into sight. Yoruichi, her violet hair tied back from the sharp planes of her face, looked grimly at them. "Nothing?" Soi Fong prompted when the other hesitated to report what she'd found or didn't as the case were. Two of the remaining members of the Stealth force silently appeared at Yoruichi's side, their eyes dull and listless above the concealing face cover.

One held out wordlessly, the remnants of a pink scarf, once a cherished possession of Rangiku Matsumoto. Soi Fong stared; her black eyes bewildered, "Ten's Lieutenant…but what of—"

"Since we got word that they were together that day," Yoruichi began, "we can only assume they died together as well." Byakuya heard the quaver in the Noble's voice, regret for the young lives of the Captain and Lieutenant lost. He too thought of the prodigal boy, his strength gone in a flash of Cero light. _Rukia couldn't be dead_.

"We saw nothing to assume your sister was killed with them," Yoruichi reassured, seemingly reading his thoughts, the primary worry foremost in his mind. "She was taken by the fifth." Soi Fong reminded, bringing a sharp look from Yoruichi to her.

Accounting the losses made in the fall of Soul society, six of the ten Captains were deceased. The remaining four being himself, Soi Fong, Sajin Komamura, and as to everyone's knowledge had been that the tenth's Captain and Lieutenant were in the world of the living, they'd assumed he was one of the survivors. Clearly he hadn't been. Byakuya noticed the taut somewhat pained expression did not leave Yoruichi; her guilt was obvious in the fact that she'd chosen to assist her protégé and not be there when Twelfth's former Captain had died.

He knew they'd been very close.

Though nothing he said could console her, he briefly considered expressing his remorse at having such a fine fighter lost, yet he didn't. Yoruichi wouldn't understand. With a sigh, he paced away from the two females, their dour moods dampening what little optimism remained in his heart. Komamura was sitting in the darkness at the base of a Myrtle Copse, his wolfish face downcast; undoubtedly he'd heard their conversation knowing there was little or nothing they could do with themselves.

Without a sufficient fighting force they had no hope of overcoming Aizen's army.

~~~Hueco Mundo~~~

Once they'd left Rukia's room, he'd gone farther ahead, Ulquiorra staying a minute longer with her then catching up in the opposite corridor. One side of his pale cheek was flushed as if with a blow, his black locks a little floppier on the same side, bringing a speculative look into Grimmjow's eye. _Had something transpired while he'd left them alone_?

Unfortunately the Cuatro let the silence speak for itself. His face apathetic as always even when a tall lounging figure stepped in the middle of the hallway, blocking their progress—well Grimmjow's anyway. Shirosaki grinned, teeth flashing malevolently, "going somewhere, Grimmy?"

Ulquiorra had gone around him, his mind focused only on the task set to him by Aizen. Grimmjow stared after him, his eye twitching. "Move it," he growled, shoving La Cero aside. Shirosaki pushed back, his strength unnatural, "why should I? You and Ulqui are going after Rukia-dear's brother, right? Byakushi?"

_Where on earth had he gotten that horrible nickname_?

Grimmjow had despised Kurosaki when he was—well—still Kurosaki. But this thing that had replaced him…it was all he could do to not wrap his meaty hands around that thing's neck and wring the life from those cruel black eyes. Shirosaki sensed the hatred rolling off of the other's aura, wisely he Sonido-ed six feet away, just missing the swipe La Sexta had attempted.

"Temper, temper, Grimmy." Shirosaki ticked his finger teasingly back and forth in a chastising gesture. Grimmjow snarled unintelligibly, his hands clenching and unclenching threateningly at his sides. "You know…I bet Rukia-dear might be better disposed to _someone_ if they didn't kill her beloved brother," Shirosaki advised. Grimmjow didn't give a shit about fulfilling his orders or listening to the crazed Hollow's ranting…_he thought then of the tears she would most likely spill…he'd have to tell her it was Ulquiorra who had done it_.

_Then she'd hate the Cuatro all the more_.

_And turn to him for consolation_.

"—I haven't seen Byakushi in a while. Grimmy, would you mind terribly if I took your place?"

Grimmjow refocused, finding Shirosaki leering up into his face, the black eyes boring into his. "Get away!" he swung his fist out, meaning to land it in the center of the tattered coat. Shirosaki caught the punch, twisting the fist in one hand, then catching the other effortlessly and doing the same. "You bastard…" Grimmjow hissed through gritted teeth.

Shirosaki lost his smile, narrowing his eyes within a flash he'd changed. "You'll regret that, Grimmy." He murmured, his knee imbedded in La Sexta's stomach and then pitching him backward into the far wall. A girl screamed and dizzily Grimmjow encountered the frail form of Rukia's Arrancar servant bending over him, her pile of Laundry forgotten on the floor.

"La Sexta! Are you okay, sir?"

Shirosaki harrumphed, striding away after Ulquiorra.

~~~*~~~

He didn't look surprised in any way to have Shirosaki join him in walking through the Garganta portal he'd opened. The night sky had risen overhead, casting the ruinous shell of the City's skyscrapers into hulking monsters. Through his Pesquisa, he sensed them, the few Shinigami who'd escaped the aftermath of their loss. In the forest they were hiding out at the base of the great mountain.

Shirosaki immediately scented their target, his lips pulling back to reveal wicked teeth grinning lustily in the moonlight. "Let me get him," he purred, laying a restraining hand on Ulquiorra's sleeve. Disgustedly he jerked away, his body recoiling from the foulness of the former deputy Shinigami. Shirosaki paid no attention to his rejection, his hand already reaching behind for Zangetsu.

"Go ahead," Ulquiorra responded to La Cero's retreating back, disappearing in a flash of white. He landed with a light tmp on the building's peaked roof, a few seconds later the glass panes of the skylight rattled and a woman, he recognized as being the Captain of Division two withdrew her short Zanpaku-to. "Sting all enemies to death, Suzumebachi!" she declared in ringing tones.

_Such annoyances these beaten Shinigami were_.

~~~*~~~

Yoruichi Shunpo-ed to the next tree branch, her steps light, her mind troubled. A swift shadow in white trailed after her, his face revealed beneath the light of the moon as that of Kisuke's student—what had once been him anyway: Ichigo Kurosaki.

It was clear that his Hollow had taken control of his body.

_To what extent_, she wondered, _did he still exist inside_? _Or had he really disappeared as he claimed_? The leaves stopped rustling behind her; breathlessly she halted four branches away, only to have the pressure of a man's body pressed into her back, his hand creeping around her neck.

"Bad kitty," the Hollow breathed along the side of her face. Yoruichi felt his fingers ghost along her prominent collarbone, her left arm tightening, the energy flowing to gather in one single attack. _This thing was not Ichigo anymore. He wouldn't have dared touch her in any way. _

She spun around, reversing their position. His back against the continuing tree trunk, her glowing fist slamming into his stomach; broken bits of bark fluttered to settle on her hand. He had jumped upward, evading her Shunko. Black light darker than the midnight surrounding them shot down, she leapt off the branch, spiraling gracefully to the ground.

_Doom blast_.

_She'd have to be more careful_…"Getsuga Tenshou!"

Yoruichi felt the searing heat bearing down her, meant to destroy the tiny valley they were in. Pink petals danced in the air suddenly, halting the progression of the reiatsu-laden attack. _Byakuya_. "Scatter, Senbonzakura," he intoned, dropping his unsheathed blade into the ground. Yoruichi watched the thousands of miniature razor-edged flower petals consume the Hollow's wreath of black fire.

"Heh. Guess I owe you one, Byakuya," she muttered, smiling mischievously. He looked over at her, his face emotionless, "assist your student. I'll take care of Kurosaki." Yoruichi closed her eyes briefly, feeling the reiatsu spike of Soi Fong's opponent, the Cuatro Espada. He was going for his resureccion state already. _She'd need help_…

_But could Byakuya_—

Seeing the steely look reflected in his gray eyes, she knew he'd win. Or at least die with pride in battle. Yoruichi passed by him, the pink petals forming a barrier over them, shielding them from the Hollow's attacks. "You take care," she said. He didn't say anything but she figured he'd also try to question the Hollow about Rukia.

"—And don't believe anything he says." She advised before leaving the area by Shunpo.

~~~*~~~

Ulquiorra raised his reiatsu threateningly, to hold back the Captain charging at him aggressively. Her Zanpaku-to had transformed into a long black and yellow stinger encasing her hand and wrist in a type of glove. _Its attacks_, he discovered, _weren't particularly useful for defense_, her arms bore the marks of blackening bruises blossoming on pale skin.

Soi Fong panted, shifting shadows warned her that the remaining members of her Stealth force were close, watching, waiting to step in and help their commander. She knew they weren't in the least capable of handling the monster that sneered at her attacks and evaded the stings of her Homonka with ease. _It would be a useless sacrifice._

_One that wouldn't benefit their side at all; she hoped they realized that. _

"Captain Soi Fong!"

The elder of the member's gave a cry, bringing her from her reverie. White flashed before her eyes, the blow never reaching her startled face. Black mingled, blood splashing across her front, the Stealth force member dropping heavily to his knees, his heart ripped out. Inhaling sharply, her eyes went to the Arrancar's impassive expression, his hand stained red, in his palm the pulsing organ quivering.

"No," she whispered. Another cry shook the air and the other, long with her since the days of Yoruichi's leadership, reacted, rushing recklessly forward to meet the tip of a gleaming sword. Soi Fong deep within her soul cried out, her body ceasing to properly function, her chest heaving with the weight of unexpressed horror conceived in the pits of despair reflected pitifully in the Arrancar's green eyes.

_She couldn't defeat him_.

_He was going to kill her_.

Casting aside the broken body of her Stealth force member, he slowly walked toward her. A hand dropped on her shoulder suddenly, Yoruichi stared straight ahead never missing the bodies of those whom she'd once commanded herself.

"I'll take care of this. You stay back."

Numbly Soi Fong looked to her teacher for guidance, her eyes welling with shameful tears.

"Yoruichi…" she whispered.

~~~*~~~

Byakuya wouldn't admit it; for he was loathe to accept defeat even when it was staring him in the face. Yet he couldn't deny the mask of pure evil on the face of the former Ryoka boy, grinning with manic glee as he was forced to retreat, Senbonzakura's petals incinerating from the hellish heat of his flames.

Reaching out with his senses, he discovered even Yoruichi hard-pressed to avoid the Cuatro's attacks. Soi Fong was trying to help, he could see, their combined Shunko not stopping the doom blasts. He wasn't faring any better. "Byakushi quit running from me! You know you can't escape!" Shirosaki taunted.

Tree limbs crashed down behind him, his Shunpo was almost equitable to Yoruichi, but the Hollow seemed to have no trouble in matching him by speed. Byakuya felt the entrance of a third Shinigami, Komamura had finally made his appearance. His avowal to only fight his former friend Tosen, broken as the two women needed his help.

_Interestingly enough, he went straight for his Bankai, not playing with only half his power with Shikai_. Byakuya slowed, gathering Senbonzakura to him, her strength was depleting fast but maybe—

"Thinkin' of performing yer Bankai, Byakushi?"

A perched figure on a boulder some yards ahead alarmed him considerably. _Just how strong was Kurosaki now_? "Ya know it won't work. So don't even waste yer energy by trying it. See—I want to present your little head to Rukia-dear as a gift. Think she'll like it?" Shirosaki laughed.

_So it was true. _

_Rukia was still alive_.

_That made his survival and that of his comrades imperative. _

_She had to be rescued from them_.

"Bankai," Byakuya spoke softly, the dark night was suddenly illuminated with the shapes of a thousand blades in long rows surrounding Shirosaki. Confining him. Trapping him in a cage of piercing swords. Unafraid, he simply hefted Zangetsu, pointed tip downward. In his mind, Byakuya said Senbonzakura's command, knowing the next seconds crucial for the battle.

Shirosaki bellowed out his counterattack.

~~~Hueco Mundo~~~

Hours had passed since Ulquiorra had left to complete his mission. Assuming of course, that Grimmjow had gone with him, Rukia was surprised to see La Sexta lounging in the chair, the little Arrancar servant busying over him with poultices and…a cup of warm milk.

Contentedly he leaned back, his feet crossed and his expression serene. Warily Rukia closed the door, her eyes lowering to the floor, unable to reconcile the feelings threatening to burst out. _She refused to cry in front of him_. "Why are you here?" she managed to ask, her voice steady.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes over to her, "La Cero went in my stead."

_Ichi—Shirosaki._

"Okay. But why are you—"

"I brought him here, Rukia-sama. Please don't be angry," the little Arrancar approached her, hands clasped demurely in a semblance of supplication. Almost instantly she felt her annoyance drain away. Gri_mmjow hadn't been the one whom had killed Ichigo_. She went over to the bed, plopping down on it, her arms behind her head.

Grimmjow shifted more comfortably in the chair, asking in quiet, curious sounding tones, "how was dinner with Aizen?"

"Unpleasant. How was dealing with Shirosaki?"

"Unpleasant."

The Arrancar and Shinigami looked at each other then started laughing; a rare moment passing between them, they'd never see eye-to-eye yet warmth was held in that single second. The little servant was across the room, arranging the dresser drawers, plucking out a flimsy white negligee for her mistress to wear that night.

Suddenly a shriek came from the hallway outside. Rukia flinched, her eyes going toward the door. Grimmjow hopped up, muttering over his shoulder, "you two stay here."

_Of course she wasn't going to listen to him_.

Following him out into the white corridor, she and the little Arrancar kept silent when they entered a larger hallway off the one where her room was "It's all your fault! I almost had him! Why did you get in the way!!!" It was Shirosaki screeching. Ulquiorra was bracing off the wide Shikai blade of Zangetsu, his hand against the gleaming black metal.

"What's all the ruckus about?" La Primera, Stark came in from a different direction. Rukia was surprised to see Nemu, Lieutenant of the Twelfth Division trailing after Lillinette. _Obviously she wasn't the only Shinigami kept by an Espada; make that Espadas_.

Ulquiorra glanced her way, his expression undecipherable. Shirosaki withdrew Zangetsu only to slug the Cuatro in the face; the second time he'd been hit in one day. Stark raised an eyebrow. But was unwilling to intervene. "Oi! What happened to Kuchiki?" Grimmjow called, his idiocy making a target for La Cero's rage.

"This fool here," he gestured to Ulquiorra, whose lower lip was bleeding, "interrupted my fight with Byakushi and let him escape!"

_Byakushi?_

_Did he mean Byakuya?_

Grimmjow's jaw nearly fell open in shock, "you—you helped him escape?!"

"No, you fool. There was simply no point in allowing—"

"He _did_ let him escape," Shirosaki said gravely, shaking his head deprecatingly. Stark, thinking it safe to get between them, went to Ulquiorra, leading the Cuatro by the arm to Lillinette, Nemu gave no sign of having recognized Rukia, her stoic face mirroring Ulquiorra's. Shirosaki let the Primera get as far as the archway to the hallway before he sent one last parting shot, "don't think I'll forget this, _Ulqui_."

Grimmjow glared as La Cero turned to them, smiling unpleasantly.

"Goodnight…_midget_."

~~~To be continued~~~

A/N: tired. Hmm…I cut Yoruichi's fight scenes down…and um about _Byakushi_; I think that's a freaking cute nickname for Bya-kun :) and um well…please review!


	6. Chapter 6 Condemnation

A/N: thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far! A bit of AizenxRukia halfway down, enjoy!

Damages chapter.6: Condemnation

She pondered the Hollow's words. _There was a chance_—she'd start thinking, then, quickly suppress the hope. _But only_…she couldn't say his name. The little Arrancar servant bustled around the room, unaware of the perturbing thoughts provoking her mistress.

"May I get you anything, Rukia-sama?"

Surprised by the Arrancar's closeness, Rukia shook her head, her hand on the blanket tucked in neatly at her waist. Solemn eyes of deep aqua blue stared back, "are you sure?" piped the thin reedy voice. "I'm sure," she affirmed, smiling the teensiest bit. A frown creased the pale brow, stepping back, the Arrancar bowed in their style instead of the usual curtsey.

"Pleasant dreams, Rukia-sama."

"You too—" belatedly she realized that she didn't recall the girl's name.

"I have no name," informed the Arrancar, understanding the captured Shinigami's problem. "No name?" Rukia repeated stupidly, feeling idiotic at the affirmative nod she received. "Then I will call you…" she trailed off, dredging up all the female names she knew. _Rangiku? No. Too upsetting. Momo? Nah. Tatsuki…_a stab of pain reminded her all too well of Orihime.

"Shirayuki!" she said suddenly, her raised voice caused the small Arrancar to shudder violently. "How's that?" Rukia repeated kindly, "Shirayuki. But Yuki for short?" A hesitant quirking on the corners of the tight little mouth indicated surprise and pleasure in being given a name.

"Thank you, Rukia-sama, and pleasant dreams."

"The same for you, Yuki."

~~~*~~~

The door closed with a soft snap, Rukia laid back, her bony knees drawn up. Her mood falling to the pits it was before. _He couldn't be_…Ichigo's face as it had been that day—the last time she saw him alive, floated through her hazy mind. For the briefest of seconds in the twilight between waking and sleeping, she thought of Ulquiorra. Only then did silently her lips move forming the sentence she'd have spoken to him concerning her brother.

_Thank you. _

~~~*~~~

"So why'd you do it?" Grimmjow questioned, simple curiosity eating him up. Ulquiorra didn't deign his response, merely slid his green-eyed gaze from the floor to La Sexta, whose sneaky grin barely restrained, made obvious his belief that the Cuatro's actions the night before had some bearing on the visit both Arrancars were making to their shared Shinigami.

"I have no pleasing answer to your question, Grimmjow. Nothing of what my reasons were, you would understand."

"Are you calling me stupid?!"

"Perhaps I am."

Grimmjow snarled, lunging for the slender black-haired Arrancar. Only a teasing laugh and footsteps accompanying it halted the melee. Stupefied, Grimmjow's head shot up, staring straight ahead at the pair walking toward them after making the turn in the hallway. Ulquiorra calmly brushed off the offending hand, swatting it away like an annoying fly.

"Why lookee here! It's Grimmy and Ulqui!" Ichimaru crowed. Rukia was as poised as a porcelain doll, bearing erect, hair coiffed to her standard style, soft white pleats of the long dress fitting her delicate form to perfection. Grimmjow stared as if he'd never seen her before. Ulquiorra locked gazes for a second, noting the peculiar way she couldn't keep the hate reflected when she forced herself to look elsewhere.

"Where are you taking her?"

Ichimaru seemed a little surprised by La Sexta's question for he scratched his silver bob, his smile slipping, "to see Aizen-sama. He requested specifically that Rukia-dear dine with him this afternoon." Grimmjow blinked, "Aizen requested?" he repeated idiotically.

_Their Lord had just entertained her the night before. So why…?_

Ulquiorra knew it wasn't his place to ask, his disappointment hid well behind his stoic expression. Silently he swept on past them, Grimmjow glanced at Rukia, seeing a particular emotion visible for an incipient flash, and then it was gone. Ichimaru was carefully observing his every movement, a queer smile on his narrow face, "take care, Grimmy. I wouldn't be making enemies of Shiro-kun if I were you."

"Well, you aren't," he snapped back sarcastically.

The fox-faced Shinigami shrugged, "suit yourself. Come, Rukia-dear, Aizen-sama waits." And as they proceeded around Grimmjow, Ichimaru hissed something only he could hear, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

~~~*~~~

If she'd thought that the night before had been torturous let alone the rooms of Aizen's that she was led to. Ichimaru seemed especially happy after leaving Grimmjow in the hallway, fury still emanating from his large form. Like with Yuki, she was taken to the doors, announced, and then pushed in. Here, instead of darkness, light flourished, illuminating hanging tapestries of the Quincy war covering the drab walls. Her heels echoed loudly on the tiles, the room empty for the conqueror was nowhere to be seen.

A cool breeze gusted in from the open French doors out onto the balcony; the sheer white muslin curtains fluttered once, a tall, broad shape moved behind them. A little startled, Rukia gasped. Aizen appeared, dressed as always in white robes, his chocolate eyes roved over her ensemble, his smile deepening in appreciation for the miniature beauty presented to him.

"You wished to see me?" She folded her arms behind her back, her gaze lowering to the floor in mock obeisance. His light footsteps caught her off guard, looking up quite quickly, she found herself staring at his chest, automatically her head tilted back all the way to meet his coolly appraising look.

"Good afternoon, my dear. Shall we sit?" His hand gently cupped her elbow, leading her to the small balcony where a table had been set, wine chilled in a cask of ice. Nervously, she perched on the edge of the wrought iron bistro chair, Aizen folded himself gracefully onto his, causing her to wonder _exactly how he did it?_

_Sosuke Aizen was a large man_.

"I wasn't perfectly sure on the age of the Sake to serve, so I simply had this Merlot brought. I hope it is comparable to what you were used to." His speech was well modulated, courteous, the perfect gentleman. Rukia accepted the fine-stemmed glass with affected delicacy. Sipping lightly at the sweetened pink contents, she murmured her compliments, "delicious."

"I thought so," he said softly, watching her tongue dart out to capture a stray drop of the wine. Icy fingers danced along the black collar, caressing her skin. He hadn't moved. Tensing, she felt the aftereffects of the alcohol seeping into her system; _had it been drugged_?

_No._

_He wouldn't stoop to that level._

_Ichimaru might_.

"Are you feeling alright, my dear?" he questioned, at her visible unease. Shrugging her shoulders with nonchalance, she consciously borrowed a mask from her collection, a smile tinged with vivacity. "Quite well, I assure you—Aizen."

"No, no! My dear, you mustn't address me in such tones as if we hardly know one another. _Sosuke will do just fine,_" he purred. Rukia traced invisible patterns onto the crystal goblet, bile burning the back of her throat. "Sosuke, then," she murmured, coyly fluttering her lashes in an almost perfect imitation of Rangiku's flirtatious attitude, Aizen seemed to find no fault with her act for he smiled broadly, leaning back in his chair.

"I believe you must be starved," he declared, ringing a shrill little bell that she hadn't noticed before. "Everything will be served immediately, I sincerely wish that you will find what I have selected to the liking of your palate."

"I'm sure I will."

~~~*~~~

Rukia did, in fact, think that everything was as perfect as could be expected from Hueco Mundo. Aizen wouldn't allow them to scrimp on anything—_just because she was their prisoner_. _The disturbing thing was…just who did he want to impress?_

She felt his eyes on her, watching her the way Grimmjow had; _like she was a particularly delectable dessert that he wished to devour. But that was ridiculous! Aizen had no interest in her! Why should he? She wasn't strong; she'd been captured as one of the few Shinigamies still alive and therefore…_a new thought occurred to her and she shuddered violently.

But he wouldn't—

"You seem cold? Is there maybe something I can have brought to relieve it?"

His words startled her, her reverie broken; she stared dumbly up at him as he stood over her. His smile kindly; did nothing to alleviate the predatorial gleam darkening his coffee brown eyes. Suddenly, she felt afraid, very afraid. No one was around; they were alone, isolated in his rooms, away from the two Espadas that were supposed to protect her.

Aizen slid his hands around the back of her neck, resting his thumbs against the base of her throat. Her pulse pounded beneath his palm and he frowned a little, "there's no reason for you to be afraid of me, Rukia. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do." So reassuring her this, he bent in low, her face turned his way and with relative ease he captured her mouth.

His assault was unwanted, gentle though he was. He smothered her protests by deepening the kiss, parting her lips, dipping his tongue inside. Revulsion made her skin crawl, even with the delightful things he was doing to the roof of her mouth. His experience far outshined her own, her body reacting with a thrum of pleasure to his thumb pad grazing the line of her throat as she swallowed hard, a low moan meant to be a shudder of distaste rattling her esophagus, and escaping into the confines of his mouth.

Aizen pulled away, his sensual lips still parted. Rukia couldn't help but feel the narrow stream of his saliva dangling from the corner of her mouth. Wiping it with the back of her hand, she glared indignantly, her angry words on the tip of her tongue. He however halted her, with a plain smile so unlike the benevolent fakery he displayed to everything else every minute of the day, that she stopped the tirade.

"I do believe you like me just the littlest bit, Rukia-dear," he said simply.

"What—" she began.

"You reacted more than I expected."

"No! That's not what I—"

"_Wanted_? No, my dear, you reacted exactly how you felt," Aizen continued on infuriatingly.

"No!!!" she scrambled from the chair, in the process flipping it over, "I refuse to listen to your lies!" Rukia slapped away the hand he held out to her, her eyes snapping and hostile. Aizen chuckled, his preference indeed being the real face the petite Shinigami before him, wore. Rough on the edges, but still with obvious vulnerability that she tried so hard to hide.

"Believe me, my dear_, I know_ the truth."

She gave him a look of pure undiluted hate, "I despise you, you filthy traitor!!" Her declaration broke the silence following even with her meager flash-step off the balcony. He made no move to go after her, knowing _someone else _to have witnessed her flight.

~~~*~~~

"Then you forget how your own body betrays you," he added, sensing the suppressed reiatsu of his Cuatro Espada disappear from the outer room. _Things were going to be interesting from now on_.

~~~To be continued~~~

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it as much fun as I had writing it! Please review :)


	7. Chapter 7 Eyes of desolation

Damages CH 7: Eyes of desolation

Ulquiorra hadn't the degree of irritation Grimmjow felt, despite La Sexta's taunts about what their Lord was doing with _their_ prize. Rukia Kuchiki was no prize. She was a Shinigami, not worthy of having an Espada such as himself concern his primary thoughts about her. So keeping this in mind, he continued on down the hallway, intent only on resting in his room. Grimmjow branched off at a turn, his brow furrowed and his expression displeased; _he really had desired to spend a little while with the girl_.

_Damn Aizen_.

A white door marked only with a black 4 set high above the knob was ajar. Shuffling noises came from within, curious, he heard the under-tone mutter of a female. _He didn't have any Fraccion_. The knob turned, the hinges silently without a creak swinging the door open. A tiny, pale face started, the eyes wide and fearful rose up to his face; _it was the Shinigami's servant_.

"La Cuatro…" the little Arrancar breathed, in her hands was clutched the wrapped blade of the Zanpaku-to. The long guard protruded above the bony shoulder. "What are you doing with that weapon?" he asked softly, his cold gaze boring straight into the terrified Arrancar. She began to back up; he advanced menacingly toward her. A squeak of fear and fingers tightening around the slender sword as he reached for it, told him all he needed to know.

_The cunning Shinigami had ordered her to do it_.

"I can kill you where you stand, trash."

The Arrancar shivered, but resolutely cradled the bundle tighter, "Ru-Rukia-sama will be happy to see her sword. I-I must make her happy." She seemed to be talking to herself. Ulquiorra withdrew his hand, seeing the creature flinch. Head bowed, miserable and cowed by his threat, the Hollow still wished to bring a little happiness to the Shinigami. _How strange_.

"Happiness isn't permitted here."

His flat statement brought the Arrancar's head up, staring at him with trembling white lips and mute disagreement. "Leave _it_," he commanded. Chest heaving, choices were few but cooperation without accomplishing anything would mean failure. She didn't want that. Her Mistress wanted-needed her precious sword back, even if that meant disobeying a direct order from a member of the Espada.

This was the only way…

Holding the scabbard end outward, she watched as he took it, not sensing anything different about it. His stare directed her to leave. Which she did, gladly, even reaching the hallway outside her Mistress's room faster with Sonido. Slipping inside, the small Arrancar reproduced the Zanpaku-to, with a pang of conscience for deceiving the Espada. Her singular power was that of manipulating dimensions to hide even the largest objects in plain sight, duplicating it was neither impossible nor difficult.

The _real_ Sode no Shirayuki gleamed in her hands, sighing heavily, Yuki laid it atop the dresser with reverence, making sure to keep the space above it locked in illusion. Rukia-sama was sure to be joyful when she brought it out. Perhaps she would even lose that morose look that had colored her expression as of late…

~~~*~~~

Ulquiorra replaced the Zanpaku-to back in the cage of solidified reishii. The field of energy being disturbed gave trace of the thieving Arrancar's break in. Waving his hand across the distorted ripple of broken bars he strengthened it with some of his own. _Make her happy…?_

There was no such thing as attaining happiness in this world.

He knew that, he had assumed she did as well.

The happiness of the world was false as the ideals of Soul society had been. They spoke of peace while with the other hand reviling the existence of the damned. With their swords and their power, crushed them down, sentencing them to this dismal, bleak world. That was the rule, she believed in. That was the belief shared by all those whom had fallen. The Shinigami dead had darkened the skies over the walled city, blasts had scorched the fair walls and still…some survived.

He raised his head to stare at the closed door of his room; _was his master, perhaps lonesome, being the near last of his kind? Was that why he wished to be in the presence of someone the same as him?_

Curiosity brought a faint glimmer to otherwise dead eyes.

He would find out for himself whether or not this was the case.

~~~*~~~

He slipped unnoticed into his Lord's quarters. The sound of plates clinking from the outer balcony alerted him to where they were. Suppressing his reiatsu, he neared the window in time to see—*

~~~*~~~

Rukia stared about herself, blinking rapidly in the full cast of bright light emitted from the fake sun above Hueco Mundo. Her lips still tingled with the memory of that kiss; disgusted with the excited beat of her pounding heart she set out. Farther away, tall jagged pillars of rock formations skirted the white dunes; her sandals crunched and sunk deep in the loosened grains.

At once the fabric of her dress began to crinkle, lying oppressively on the blades of her shoulders. Sweat trickled along her hairline, beading perspiration dotted her forehead. _What was this—Death Valley_? The famed American desert had nothing on Hueco Mundo. Glancing back, she found she had only traveled a few paces away from the traitor's palace. _If only she had Sode no Shirayuki with her_…

Fondly she recalled the cool ice surrounding her aura, becoming one with the white Zanpaku-to and performing her beautiful, yet deadly dances. She sighed, how she missed it! _Damn them. Damn them all_! Opening her eyes from the remembrance of her sword, her eyes zeroed in on a lone figure, familiar but…

"Nemu!" She flew up the next dune with relief; at least she wasn't alone out here. Except…glancing about she didn't see evidence of Stark or his annoying fraccion. The former Lieutenant of Division twelve, stood pensive, staring silently out at the expanse of empty dunes and sky, her expression somber. "Nemu? It's me—Rukia Kuchiki—Captain Kuchiki's—"

"I know. I heard you the first time." Wise onyx eyes turned to look down at the petite Shinigami that had joined her sojourn. "I glimpsed you yesterday as well, beside La Sexta. Stark-sama didn't need the problems that my hailing of you might bring, so I chose not to speak with you then."

Rukia blinked in confusion; _had she just addressed a Hollow with an honorific?_

Apparently.

"Stark-sama later asked me if I indeed knew you and if so why didn't I—"

"Why do you do that?" she felt she had to ask.

"What?"

"Speak of that monster with a tone of reverence? Have you forgotten—they destroyed our world!" Rukia met the woman's blank stare and knew she had to clarify, "Soul society! Everyone—" her voice broke at the end, the rising lump in her throat made it difficult to go on, "—everything." She averted her face, determined that she wouldn't be seen giving into such a weak thing as tears.

Nemu unclasped her hands from her stoic pose, sympathy breaking across her frozen mask; gently she enfolded the smaller girl in her arms. "He may seem horrible as they all do, Kuchiki-san. But…Mayuri-sama was no more a monster than them."

"But—"

"No. Listen," Nemu patted the top of Rukia's head the way you might comfort a child, "when the invasion of Soul society happened, I as well as others were there on the front lines. Our defense was breached almost immediately; retreat seemed to be the only option. As I went with the few others who'd survived the initial assault—Mayuri-sama waited inside the research and development division. The doors slamming shut behind the backs of those with me. He—he left me there. Outside. To fend off the approaching army and give _him_ a chance to escape; those were his final orders."

Rukia listened with growing horror; rumors had always circulated about the sadistic Captain and his ill treatment of those around him. _They had all been true_.

"Stark was the first to approach. Passing me by with a simple glance—seeing I had no chance of defeating him, as my wounds were great. Those inside didn't live long after that. I felt my father's reiatsu flare and fade into nothingness; footsteps resounded down the hallway then back outside. _He_ then came. Looking down at me, measuring my odds of survival. I was carried by him and brought here…to serve at his side with Lillinette. I loved my father—but he did not love me."

Nemu finished her statement with perfunctory stoicism. Rukia drew in breath, her eyes dry now but her heart heavier with a sadness she could not comprehend. "He's still…" she faltered, her voice dropping to a soft whisper, "a monster."

Nemu sighed, and then slowly turned to the figure of an Arrancar approaching, "I know. I know it so well."

Rukia looked too, seeing that it was Ulquiorra.

Back to the Palace now.

Back to the room she hated and the creatures she loathed.

But still.

A touch of humanity had been found in Stark. Could not the same seed be within the cold eyes of desolation that ordered her from Nemu's side and to his, be found also?

"Come with me…Rukia."

After all he had never spoken her name before.

~~~To be continued~~~

AN: :( unhappy with this chapter. :( Anyway it had to be done. D: Sorry it wasn't longer. Reviews are much appreciated since I'm not sure if I should keep the chapter as it is or delete and change it?


	8. Chapter 8 Closer

Damages CH.8: Closer

_Humanity_…thoughtfully Rukia peered in moments when he was looking away from her, at the white face and cold eyes. _What was he thinking_? Curiously her mind took closer note of the folds of his clothes, the length and measured careful tread of his steps, the coal-black tips of hair lying along the sides of his jaw-line. His straight posture and bearing demanding respect from those they encountered in the bows and hushed tones of awe that followed them throughout the white halls.

"Is there something of interest to you in my countenance?" Ulquiorra broke the quiet of their monotonous footsteps as they entered into a deeper part of Las Noches. She glanced quickly at him, surprised, _so he had noticed her staring_. "Not in the least," she said, choosing her words with care, "I cannot imagine finding a loathsome creature such as yourself, ever interesting."

He was quiet.

Though she had the oddest feeling it wasn't out of anger.

Another peek at his face dropped the seed of a new worry deep into her heart. There it was on his lips again. A peculiar half-smile like that of secret knowing or…the hallway they were in diverged to the left and continued on farther underground. Ulquiorra spared not a look back, turning and leaving behind the row of plain unmarked doors to which Rukia found somehow…_familiar._

_Where was he taking her_?

The only sound came from their sandals on the tiled floor. Suspicion came easy to her and she slowed her pace, no longer pretending to be equal if only for appearance. _What was going on_? The longer she focused her dulled senses into the near area the stronger the pressure she felt. _Was he leading her into the den of the Espada?_

"Hey!" she determinedly halted, glaring at his back, "just where the hell are you taking me?"

"To _your_ room." His flat tone held no deceiving guile and she was forced to admit that he seemed to have little or no interest in her whatsoever. Instead of making her happier this thought soured her mood. "Fine. Lead on," snappishly she muttered, catching up with him and huffingly walking on in silence.

~~~*~~~

He ignored her eyes going to the doors they soon passed and others visible down smaller corridors, each labeled with a perfect gothic number. His, they came to before long. "Four?" Rukia said, an eyebrow rose over a large violet eye. _This wasn't her room_.

The door opened as if expecting them, inside a plain bed stood in the corner, a bedside table devoid of a lamp near it. Exactly as she would've imagined his quarters being: _empty, without life or personality_. But then…what would there be? Certainly not pictures, effects of Hollows were ridiculous to think of—

"Go in," he commanded, earning a stare over her shoulder at his audacity, though her body did move to comply with the order. Once he had stepped in after her, the door sealed beneath his fingertips, becoming a part of the wall. _Had he locked her in_?

"This…" she attempted to keep her voice steady, her eyes rose to his face, "…isn't my room."

Ulquiorra observed her as he had done other times, with a touch of mild disdain in the set of his expression. "No," he agreed, "it isn't." Rukia fought the plummeting sense of tight fear winding its way along her insides. Her hands threatened to tremble and she gripped them, refusing to give in to panic. A few steps remained between them and he covered them easily, the touch of his index finger beneath her chin startled her. Looking up, she saw the hint of a faint smile curling his mouth.

"Are you afraid of me, Rukia?"

~~~To be continued~~~

. Tired…and yeah the part with Yuki was supposed to be here, since contrary to belief the part with Shirayuki is important to the storyline. -.- Reviews are appreciated.


	9. Chapter 9 Interruption

Damages CH.9: Interruption

'_Are you afraid of me, Rukia?'_

"No. I'm not." Though her heart was pounding, she did her utmost to keep the present fear from overwhelming her. He seemed almost satisfied yet he hadn't released her.

"Take your—"

Suddenly he was close, much closer than before.

"—hand—"

Savagely her mouth was taken by force, his arms going around her, lifting her. She tried to protest, her palms meeting the front of his jacket, scrunching against the coarse fabric. "Ulqui—" her back hit the opposite wall, his mouth sucking greedily at her throat.

"—orra…" _what he was doing was wrong; it wasn't what she wanted_, her mind kept repeating. The skirt of her dress was rudely hiked up past her thighs, her bare skin rubbing the black sash around his waist; a peculiar thrill ran through her body, tightening her entrance.

"Stop it…" she said weakly, his tongue flicked across her collarbone, her breath hitched. His fingers slid in a line over the bosom of her dress, slitting the flimsy material easily. She heard him grunt in satisfaction as his heated breath tingled the sensitive pink of her nipple, hardening it to pert firmness instantly. The nub slid along his moist lips, his teeth grazing it in a soft nip, her back going rigid in suppressed arousal.

He frowned faintly, a few stifled moans and her hand sliding along the back of his helmet and into his hair escaped her watch. Her thighs, he felt quivering with suppression, carefully, so slowly, he slipped his left hand between them, his thumb stroking her throbbing center.

_She wanted him_, he mused, pressing his finger inward ever so slightly, her gasp of shock quickly changing into a low moan. Her inhibitions were fading, her resolve weakening. In the face of need, the Shinigami Noble was helpless to the desires of her body. It was interesting what such little touches could do to melt her into a writhing mass of want, her legs open and her opening soaked with heat, the liquid oozing onto his finger. _And still she denied it!_

"I…don't…want…"

"Don't struggle…_Rukia_," he added as an afterthought. Her eyes half-lidded took in the sight of his sash slipping, a glaze of _almost hunger _flickering through their depths. And then…

"Ul-qui-o-orraaa!"

His eyes warned quietness was desired.

The door visible in the hallway was pounded on, "dinner!"

Rukia was about to speak; a sudden ramming of his palm against her bruised lips halted her voice. She glared as hard as she could given the circumstances, hearing his steady tone unaffected by the moments before. "I know, Grimmjow."

There was hesitation, "well…c'mon!" Then, "are you getting sick or something? Your voice sounds huskier than usual."

He wasn't sure how to answer that. His glance went to her and unaccountably her cheeks reddened. "You are _mistaken_. I am quite fine." He replied coldly.

A _tch_ came from behind the door.

"Why are you still here?"

"I was just being _polite_ in inviting _you_ to join _me_ for dinner with _the Shinigami_."

~~~*~~~

AN: I figured that was a good place to stop. Yawns. Ciao and reviews are appreciated and yeah…_he was going to go all the way_. Stupid Grimm…


	10. Chapter 10 Two minds one heart

Damages CH.10: Two minds, one heart

_How could I have…_Rukia still felt the unreleased heat of her body lying just below the surface. _To think she had…Ulquiorra_. His face was the same, his expression empty even registering the sound of Grimmjow stomping off down the hallway. _The bastard. Did nothing affect him?_

Her chest heaved; she longed to slap away the scathing look that passed over her body. To her surprise he stepped back, his hand going to the track of his zipper and sliding it down. "Here," he held out his jacket. She stared at the smooth expanse of his bare chest. Her hand rose and traced the outline of the four tattooed on his breast.

"Did it hurt?" her voice was quiet. _Why did I ask that_?

"No," he said shortly, thrusting the cloth at her. Rukia hugged it to her, the warmth…his warmth still emanating from it. She felt cold all over. Once the rush of arousal was spent she became conscious of the unpleasant tingle of cooled liquid clinging to her inner-thighs.

"Use my shower."

She slipped his jacket on, clutching the front to hold it closed. He had his back to her. She glanced from him to the second door she hadn't noticed before set in the wall across the way. Hurriedly she went to it, discovering as she suspected, a bathroom in the same monochromatic colors. She heard a shifting on the other side of the door and thinking he might change his mind and try to join her, stripped fast.

The ruined dress fell to the floor in a puddle of white. She stepped from it and slid her fingers along the line of her underwear to pull it down then hesitated. Did that really happened? _His mouth on her lips, his hands on her body caressing, stroking her secret places? And she let it happen_!

She became disgusted with herself.

_To even contemplate she could be so weak as to open her legs like a cheap whore for her enemy, panting like a bitch in heat! Shame_! Rukia passed her tongue over her lips, her mouth suddenly feeling dry. She tasted him, a remnant of saliva still slicking her bruised mouth.

Dammit. Roughly she wiped her hand across her mouth, desperate to erase any trace of him from her. Vile. Dirty. Unclean. Shucking off the rest of her undergarments, she stood naked under the oval showerhead, fumbling with the knobs. Soon water in the range of cool as cold as she could stand it ran down her hair along her neck and streamed along tiny valleys between her breasts, her hands vigorously scrubbed with a bar of what she assumed was scentless soap, her stomach and gathering suds below her waist.

_Had he—was he—no—stop it—don't think about it—I didn't want—did I?_

She pressed her sudsy palm to her chest, feeling the racing beat of her heart.

_Had she wanted it? In that moment seconds before Grimmjow had come and interrupted…if they hadn't been…would she be in a very different place now?_

She licked her mouth, allowing herself to imagine what could have been.

_On the floor, Ulquiorra between her legs pumping her…_

She swallowed hard, leaning against the tile wall for support.

_His apathetic expression above her, her body arching up, being embraced in the circle of his arms. His length inside her, filling her…_

It was too much. Her eyes snapped open, her lips were parted; she was near to gasping. Her opening felt tight, hot despite the lowered temperature of the water. _It was lust wasn't it_? She ran her hand through her hair, lifting it from her neck. _She was lusting after her enemy, after a monster. Was this what was happening to Nemu_? _Did __she__ have sex with Stark?_

_Did __she __want to?_

Realizing what was passing through her mind, Rukia shook her head to clear it. _That really was not any of her business_. She glanced through the filmy curtain to the closed door. _Ulquiorra_…

~*~

The little servant of the Shinigami's; trembled when entering his room. In her arms was the fresh outfit he'd requested along with lacey undergarments. Ulquiorra lifted them apart, dismissing her with a curt flick of his hand. He laid out the skirt of the dress, smoothing out the wrinkles of the nearly sheer fabric. The top was of princess styling with the longer length of the Arrancar uniform. Black ribbon was fitted along the bodice and hemline. Stockings and sandals had been brought also. He looked over it all and then gathered up the undergarments, traveling the few steps to the closed door.

He turned the knob, finding it unlocked. It opened inches allowing him to peer in almost unseen from her figure standing behind the shower curtain. She stood sideways to him, patches of white suds at her breast and narrow hips, her hand rose to her chest, her dark head bowed beneath the torrent of water. There…

She started. Her hand flew to her mouth then flicked through her soaked hair. Ulquiorra stared at her a moment longer, every inch of her body, though she didn't know it, was visible to him. A faint smile curved his mouth. Her head had turned and she was staring at the door. _Had she heard him_?

"Ulquiorra."

He caught his name spoken softly from her lips and wondered at it. _If he had taken her before without the interruption of Grimmjow happening, would she have cried his name without the quiet shame now hushing her voice_? Ulquiorra stepped back and knocked on the panel.

"What is it?"

~*~

The light rapping had startled her from her mental anguish. Rukia straightened, peering through the curtain as she had done moments before but now scrutinized it suspiciously, "what is it?" she called. He answered without the slightest change of inflection in his tone, "your clothes."

_Oh…_briefly her eyes darted to the pool of white fabric on the white flooring. Her face felt hot. _Damn water_, she blamed quickly, scowling at the spigot. The door opened slowly and she nearly screamed, her arms jerking in an attempt to cover herself. The curtain wasn't see-through. Not by much. Most likely all he could see was her outline not…_anything else_.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

A tiny bundle of black lay beside the fluffy towel on the shelf. He was gone. _A bit small to be her clothing…_thinking nothing so much beyond that, she finished up her shower and stepped out, curls of steam still arose from her wet body, drying off briskly, Rukia grabbed the first item from the pile.

_A pair of…what was this?_ She held it out between her hands. _A thong? Or near it. Who had brought this_?! _Ulquiorra! Dirty-minded bastard_. She glanced at the ones she'd discarded, the contours of the crotch soaked with milky wetness. _Dammit it all_. She slid the tight foamy fabric up, sliding it over her thighs until it was finally settled snuggly against her cleft. She tugged at the back, feeling it slide between her crack with every movement.

Damn him.

Her hand reached out for the second-_last_-item? _What the…_

Only a strapless bra remained. The tiny cups lying curved like sculpted seashells. _That bastard_. _He was probably out there right now enjoying himself and the little joke he'd thought he had played on her_. Fuming, Rukia clasped the bra and positioned the cups over her breasts. _Fine. Two can play at that game_. Determinedly she strode out, throwing the door open, her head held high.

He was leaning against the wall, his eyes closed.

On the bed laid out was a white dress with the usual black detail and stockings. A pair of flat sandals was beside the bed on the floor. Rukia approached it, keeping him in sight from the corner of her eye. Her hand was extended to grasp at the sleeve of the dress…his fist closed over her wrist.

_How…so fast…_

She yanked away, ignoring the momentary flash of pain. "Hands off." She warned, stepping back, one arm wrapping around her bosom. Ulquiorra seemed almost amused but did, as she wanted. Turning away, his face to the wall. She slipped the dress over her head, hurriedly yanking it into its proper folds, her arms in the long sleeves. She bent slightly, placing her foot on the edge of his bed, tugging the top of the stocking up.

Then the other leg, and the sandals, everything the exact fit and she wondered if Yuki had been there. "I'm ready," she announced coldly to his unmoved form. He turned slightly, regarding her with an impassive glance. He nodded after a moment, "it'll do. We must go now."

_It'll do? Not—you look lovely? Even Aizen had complimented her! And he was top on her list of loathsome people along with Ichimaru and…Shirosaki. She was surprised to find Ulquiorra had descended lower on her list_.

"Come."

She still hated the way he sounded. As though it were an order.

~*~

Her feelings of indignation grew. The teal-eyed Arrancar sitting across from her kept shooting looks of thinly disguised hate to the other, suspicious at once, but having nothing proving to the contrary of what he found. Two-well-people resting upon one another eyes betraying nothing more than the occasional word suggesting nothing of acquaintances or even less of two who had been quite close only an hour before.

She lifted her fork to her mouth, glaring unseeingly to Ulquiorra's face.

_Bastard_.

Grimmjow drank from the crystal goblet near his elbow. She was reminded unwittingly of the Kuchiki mansion. Her jaws clenched.

_Bastards._

Her fork met the plate like a dagger to the chest of an enemy. Her silent fuming seen by no one. Yuki hovered at the edges, worriedly glancing from the taut faces of the Espadas to her mistress's irritated expression. The tension was so thick, to borrow and old and nearly useless saying, it could be cut with a knife.

_Clearly they were competing._

_Fools._

Neither would say it, nor antagonize the other by words of anger but it was there, between their glares and covetous looks, enveloping them all in misery.

-The one who was being fought over and the two who wanted her-

_Damn them both!_

She was imminently relieved the moment they both had had enough. Ulquiorra rising first in on smooth motion, straightening, meeting her eyes for a moment then turning away._ I want to strangle him_, she thought, scowling darkly at his retreating figure from over her wine goblet. Grimmjow went after him, both pausing by the door. _Oh no_.

_Not a kiss goodnight! No! No! No!_

She was near to bolting for the bathroom door when they gave up, obviously disappointed-Grimmjow was-Ulquiorra she couldn't tell…

"Rukia-sama?"

She rubbed her temples tiredly, "yes, Yuki?"

The little Arrancar approached her cautiously from behind, dropping to her knees beside Rukia's hip. Surprised, she glanced down at the bowing head and the familiar black scabbard held between pale hands. "Yuki! Is that…?"

_My sword_.

The Zanpaku-to was relinquished willingly into the hands of its wielder.

"Ulquiorra-sama had it. I took it and tricked him, letting him think he still has it." Yuki replied proudly. Rukia turned it over, running her fingers over the square guard and red hilt of its unreleased state. _Now that she had it…_a wondrous thought occurred to her.

"Yuki…can you open a Garganta portal?"

"Uh-huh."

"Even one to the living world?"

"Uh-huh…but why would Rukia-sama want to go there? Yuki isn't allowed to set foot outside of Las Noches."

_Damn. Stay calm…act casual._

"So you could open a portal then?"

"Yes. All Hollows can."

_Escape_.

_If I could just convince her…Nemu…would that she try to…but would she go for it?_

_Escape. Soon. Away from this hellhole…away from those two. Ulquiorra. _Her heart faltered but her hands tightened determinedly on Sode no Shirayuki's scabbard.

_I will escape. I must. Brother…_

~To be continued~

AN: Thanks for reading and reviews are appreciated-not flames.


	11. Chapter 11 You can't go home again

Damages CH.11: You _can't_ go home again

_Now that she had Sode no Shirayuki back_…Rukia fought with her conscience. _How easy would it be to get a moment alone with Nemu_…_what if she was caught…her plan overheard…Nemu blabbed…Stark's fraccion hung around and heard and reported back to one of the Espada. Argh!_ In frustration she threw herself crossways on the bed, scowling darkly. There were just too many _What ifs_ if she failed.

Her hand rose to her forehead, considering another dimmer possibility. _What if she did make it and found Byakuya…but was tracked down and—No! No! No_! _And then_, with a groan she rolled over onto her stomach, peering down at the sleeping form beside the foot of the bed. _Yuki_. The little Arrancar was convinced—due to Aizen's brainwashing—that she wasn't allowed to set foot outside of Las Noches thereby with her Mistress wanting to take a trip into the living world…_she'd just have to_…but then how would Byakuya feel if she appeared with an Arrancar in tow?

_Dammit! But she couldn't just leave her_…

_Ulquiorra would flip if he found out that his eye had been deceived_. She bit her lip, staring up at the canopy; _Yuki was an Arrancar, a Hollow, her enemy in the sense of Seireitei_. _If they hadn't lost and things had been different would she have still felt the same guilt if…but no! That wasn't…but still_. Rukia passed her palm fondly over the scabbard lying next to her on the quilt. _Sode no Shirayuki_. _At least she had her back…but now…now would_ _be the time to escape. When they wouldn't think of showing up unexpectedly at night_.

_Nemu_…she hated to leave without offering the quiet girl a chance…

'Stark-sama'

_No. She wouldn't. She would stay with him. Nemu wouldn't think of betraying the monster that had slain her fellow Soul reapers. Steadfast loyalty was to_ _be her downfall_. Rukia sighed then purposefully slipped off the bed;_ she would go now rather than risk the chance evading her_.

On her lips the words to speak and calm the small Arrancar resided. Taking a breath, she knelt down and tapped the thin shoulder gently, "Yuki!"

~Ruins of Karakura town~

Rukia had forgotten how the world of the living looked at night. A real sky scattered with winking diamonds, no moonlight illuminated the ruinous center of the decimated town. For that she was glad. It would have been more painful to enter if the full blaze of day were upon it. The portal resealed itself behind her. _Yuki hadn't come_. She recalled the pinched face and wide eyes staring after her and felt a twinge of unease.

_Maybe Ulqui—no—he wouldn't. He wasn't the sort to forgive insubordination_ _of any kind_. _Especially if_—"agh!" the cry left her lips involuntarily as she stumbled over something in the street. She hopped over it and regained her balance, squinting in the dark to try and see what it was. _A skeletal baby-stroller_, her mouth went dry, the wheels still spun in squeaking arcs from her sudden movement of it.

She had to go.

_It was too much_.

Her sandals were nearly soundless on the pavement. She thought of one place, her heart ached and her cheeks felt clammy with moisture. _His house_. She doubted it still stood but—suddenly she became aware of a new sound, the uneven tap-tap of another following at a distance. _Shit! She had been discovered!_

She tried sensing who it was…_no reiatsu_. _Must have it suppressed_. _That could be any one of them_. Their Sonido could easily outmatch her speed and yet whoever it was chose not to do so. Probably wanted to make her squirm in fear before—Something slammed into her back, sending her flying. Tiny arms wrapped around her middle and tumbled with her.

They came to a stop in the middle of the street. Rukia flipped over and sat up, blood-rushing through her ears. "Yu-Yuki?!" she cried, seeing the small head of short hair bob up and the little Arrancar servant's face somewhat bruised from the fall peer up at her.

"I thought about what you said and I—I—I didn't want to stay alone!"

Dumbfounded, Rukia tried catching her breath. _It wasn't an Espada chasing her_. Her pounding heart assumed a regular if unsteady beat, the fright passing. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

The Arrancar cowered.

"I thought it was—" she stopped, observing the mutely bowed head pressed against her chest. She sighed and laid her hand on the small back, feeling the slight flinch that followed. "Come on…" she got up slowly with Yuki still clinging to her. "There's a place that I used to know…I'd like to see it one last time then we look for my brother, 'kay?"

Yuki nodded then looked up at her quizzically, "you have a brother? Is he strong?"

"Yes." They began moving again in the direction where she knew the clinic to be.

"Stronger than…the Espada?"

Rukia's chest tightened, her eyes closed briefly then opened, her answer hesitant, "uh-huh. He…he once fought against Ichi—Shirosaki, the day I was going to be executed."

"_You_ were going to be executed! And—and against La Cero? Did he win?"

The Arrancar's eyes were large in her face and Rukia smiled faintly, " of course he did. He's still alive, isn't he?" _That was a lie in a way_. Yuki swung their clasped hands while she mulled over this. "Is he—your brother—is he a—a-Soul reaper?"

"He used to be Captain of the sixth Division." Rukia said proudly_. Not anymore_.

"Do you think…he'll…like me?"

"Of course he will, silly!" she hastened to reassure her. _He better_. _Once I tell him how she's helped me, he'd better accept her_. They rounded the street corner and she stopped walking. _There it was_. The outer façade of the clinic was still in place, not a shingle of window seemed broken. It had escaped unscathed. _Thank the Gods…_

~*~

The stairs creaked underfoot but Rukia had no fear. No one was around; it was just she and Yuki treading on the familiar staircase, coming to the landing turning to the door on the left that was his…

She stiffened and stared.

The door stood open, an unnatural light bathed the room in weak luminescence. A tall figure stood facing the window, almost as if taken from her memories and superimposed like a hologram. Every inch was the same. Faded tight jeans, the clink of a metal chain looped around the belt and hanging to the side, the green station sweatshirt with the hood thrown back.

She wanted to see his face.

_It was impossible._

She had to see his face.

Yuki unwillingly was dragged along even stumbling across the threshold. Rukia impatiently tugged on her hand motioning her forward.

He still hadn't turned.

"I-Ichigo?" she hardly dared to hope.

_But maybe—could it be—?_

Burning black eyes with two yellow pinpoints met her hopeful look, a crazed grin split the scowling mouth, "no, Queen. It's me, Shirosaki!"

Rukia screamed, falling back.

His dense reiatsu washed over the small room.

Her legs gave out.

Her fists clenched, and only then she realized Yuki had let go.

"No, YUKI! NO!!!!"

~*~

Her eyes filled with horror only saw the body of the Arrancar be tossed aside, bloodied about the gaping wound in her chest. Shirosaki didn't spare another look back, crossing the room in two strides, "ooh we're alone now. That pesky Ulqui-kun and Grimm-kitty aren't here to protect you." He bent down to eye level and smirked in her face, "they have, you know. 'Kyorra especially. He worries for you…in fact I would dare say _he loves you_. Not more than me of course." His hand trailed down her cheek, "no one loves you more than me."

Rukia couldn't even hear.

_Yuki. _

Her mind was detached, her body hollow.

_Hurtbecauseofme._

He drew near.

Her wide-open eyes caught the flicker of movement. Yuki lay on her stomach, her head tilting up. Rukia saw her mouth something, no sound but the trickle of blood escaped. The large eyes closed.

Don'tdiedon'tdieohpleaseGodsdon'tletherdie!!!!!!!!!

"—I'll take good care of you, Queen…" was the last thing she ever heard.

She had no prayer for herself.

~Las Noches~

"Oi, 'Kyorra-kun!"

Ulquiorra merely lessened his pace from the door of the woman's cell. "Yes, Ichimaru?"

The silver-haired Shinigami trotted up to him, smiling a crooked smile tinged with a hint of worry, "you seen Shiro-kun around here?"

"No." he felt slightly curious, "why do you ask?"

"Aizen wants to talk to him 'bout something. But I can't find Shiro-kun anywhere. The last time I did see him was yesterday evening, talking to himself. Saying things about goin' home…" Ichimaru shrugged, "I didn't know what he was talking about so I…"

Ulquiorra heard no more.

_Home. Karakura town. But it was_…

"ULQUI—O-ORRA!!!!"

He sighed. "Yes…Grimmjow?"

Agitated footsteps ran up to them, their owner being the teal-eyed La Sexta, panting with exertion and nervous tension. "She's—" he began then noticing Ichimaru, grabbed a hold of Ulquiorra's arm and pulled him away to an empty room down the hall. Once the door was closed, he said in a rush what had transpired in the last hours of them parting.

_He was jealous. He hoped to get one up on his rival. He had snuck back to her room after making sure Ulquiorra was attending to the Inoue woman. And…the room was empty. Both Soul reaper and servant were gone_…_but where_?

A suspicion formed in Ulquiorra's mind.

A simple check of his room and the Zanpaku-to held in his care confirmed part of it.

_She had escaped with the help of the Arrancar_…

Where would she—

The answer was obvious. He wondered why he hadn't realized it before.

"Ulquiorra?"

It was almost strange that it had taken the petite Soul reaper to bring them to this point. A semblance of near mutual concern for one thing.

The duplicate Zanpaku-to dissolved his hands.

"She is somewhere within Karakura town." Ulquiorra said flatly. Grimmjow began cursing but quieted down instantly when he held up his hand to finish. "La Cero, I believe is there also."

~*~

Note: I intend to rewrite this but as I found CH.11 buried within my docs nearly ready I polished it up and decided to post it as it was. Much later on however I will redo Damages because I feel it has gone somewhat astray from my original vision. :P


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